Conversations
by SpookyChild
Summary: Harry and Draco have an ‘interesting’ conversation before the Final Battle. Beware of unnecessary capitalizations and corny jokes.


Conversations

A Harry Potter One-Shot by SpookyChild

The sky seemed angry that day; heavy rains hitting the pavement like gunshots in the almost freezing air of early February. I was never one to believe in fate, but this weather seemed very appropriate. Besides, what was a tiny rainstorm compared with the final battle that was taking place later on tonight? I could survive a few raindrops, although that could hardly be said about taking on Voldemort roughly two hours from now. I knew I should be more worried, but I suppose that The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-Seventeen-Before-Bravely-Dying-By-The-Hands-Of-You-Know-Who wasn't such a bad title to have. And it was in that mood that I turned onto the deserted street and stood there, waiting for him.

I didn't understand why Draco Malfoy would want to meet here, of all places. Inside would be a much better meeting place, I thought, but maybe he liked freezing rain and blisteringly cold wind. Malfoy had always been a little vicious like that. Probably doing this because he knew I didn't have an umbrella.

Ever since Draco Malfoy had put his Evil and Treacherous Past behind him, he'd been on 'our side', so to speak. Although he expressed that he wasn't on 'our side' so much as 'my side', since he didn't give a damn about the Order or anybody else. Because he had expressed this, Ron decided that Malfoy hadn't really put his Evil and Treacherous Past behind him, and that Draco was still in the Evil and Treacherous Present. When I told Ron that he wasn't making any sense, he got mad and didn't talk to me for a week. And that was how Draco Malfoy came over to our side.

And now I'm here, standing in the pouring rain, waiting for someone I was now convinced had traded his Evil and Treacherous Past for a more Sadistic and Annoying Present. I was about ready to leave and do some very important Hero of the World things, like write my will before the final battle, when I saw him.

For such a small person, Draco has an insane amount of superiority. Even when he's standing in the freezing cold rain looking, for all the world, like a wet dog. Wearing a gray sweater and black pants, he walked up to stand next to me.

"I knew you'd be here." 

"You were the one who told me to meet you." I replied, giving him a strange look. Malfoy shrugged.

"I know. I just wanted to sound cool." He squinted his eyes in the rain. "So, I guess you'll be fighting him soon."

"How did you know?" I asked. Malfoy shrugged again.

"You were looking a bit shifty this morning." 

"You're observant." I mumbled.

"Well, you know, being locked in that Grimmauld Place with the Order and a bunch of those Weasely children and Granger does make one observant." He stated. He turned and pointed behind him to the bench, and we sat down. "Besides," he continued, "you were in full Sneaky mode. Granger just said it was one of the Fifteen Faces of Harry Potter." 

I blinked. "What? That's crazy."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Malfoy exclaimed. "I mean, there's at least Twenty-Five Faces. That is, if you count Passive-Aggressive Harry, and Frustrated Because He Can't Fold Towels The Right Way Harry, and 'Angel' Fanatic Harry-,"

"Hey, we both watch that show." I pointed out. "And I only have one face. I keep it on my head where I won't lose it." He glared at me, but didn't say anything. There was a moment of silence between us.

"So…" Draco began, fidgeting slightly. I swear, that boy can't sit still for ten minutes. "The Dark Lord is trying to kill you, eh?"

"Must be a Thursday." I mumbled, flicking a twig off of the bench. Draco shook his head.

"God, that guy is such a bum." He muttered. "So, have you thought of any ways to 'bring him down'?" He asked, illustrating by moving his fingers in quotation marks. I shrugged nonchalantly.

"I don't know." I said. "I don't really think there is any right or wrong way to fight him."

"Well…" Draco began, looking thoughtful, "You know, sometimes the right way can be the wrong way, and the wrong way…" He gave me a pointed look, "…can be the right way."

"…_Thank_ you, Draco in Wonderland." I said sarcastically. 

"Well, you don't have to be a _jerk_ about it, you jerk." Draco stated, crossing his arms over his chest. "I just thought you could use a bit of company. You know, before you die."

"That's encouraging." 

"We could leave, you know." He said suddenly, peering out through the rapidly fading light at the dark road. "Pack it up right now and go off by ourselves. You can be the driver since you know how to work a stick."

"Gross, Draco. Just gross."

Draco grinned and turned his head to the side. "Oh well, I did my best." He checked his watch, and suddenly his eyes darkened. "Half-past seven." He stated. "What time are you going…?"

"One hour."

"Oh." He sat back against the rain-slicked bench, sighing. "I could come with you, you know. Help you out and all that junk."

"No." I said bluntly. "This is a very important, Hero of the World thing. Are you a Hero of anything?"

"I'm good at Monopoly."

"I'll take that as a no, so you can't come." 

Malfoy smirked. He stood up. "Well then, I guess I'd better be leaving."

"Where are you going?" I asked. He shrugged.

"I don't know. I'll probably go back to the house and have a lay-down. Want to hear some real advice before I leave?"

"Shoot." I said, waving my hand at him. 

"Baking soda and baking powder are two totally different things."

I smiled. God, I love that boy.

"You see," he continued, "you always use baking powder in your pancakes, so that's why they taste like pretzels."

I frowned. God, I hate that boy. 

"They do not." I muttered, crossing my arms, ready to go into full Pouty mode. Draco smirked.

"Well, I'd better be going." He stood up and turned to me, staring, maybe meaning to say something else. But, of course, Draco wasn't one for sentimental good-byes. I understood, though. We were both alike, making jokes even though inside we were scared to death. But leave the sentimental good-byes to Hermione. 

"Wish me luck." I said, standing up myself. 

Draco sighed. Then, overly-enthusiastically, he clapped me hard on the shoulder and said, "Good luck!" On that note, he turned around and began walking away. I knew he wouldn't go back to Grimmauld Place, at least not tonight. When Malfoy didn't want to be found, he wasn't going to be found. Except, of course, by me. By now, he had already disappeared.

"Good bye." I called after him. I sighed and began brushing the water off of my clothes as best I could. Time was up. I turned and began to walk down the street, ready to 'rumble', as some call it, when I suddenly stopped and looked down.

"Aww, man." I whined: Pouty mode fully in function. "Now I have gum on my shoes."

+ + + 

An actual good story… whoa there, Spooky! Don't strain yourself. Commend or condemn me, people. I have nothing left to say, except…this is the end of the story. PEACE!

-SC


End file.
